Denial
by JustMeP
Summary: A few months after John died Dean is acting strange. He's cranky, he's snapping at Sam with no reason and when Sam finally confronts him he's having a complete meltdown. But was this just Dean not dealing with his father's death? (Gen. Mentally de-aged!Dean)


**A/N: Unedited. I wrote it all pretty much at once and posted without even reading it. Therefore, kinda off my game and has TONS of mistakes. Since I already posted, i'm keeping it online until I find the time for edits and rewrites. But you've been warned, this is very, very! raw. It's bad writing, people.**

**Update, March 28th: Sorry, still no edit. I should probably delete this, but i'm keeping it since it's sort of a draft for "Talk About It (Eternity)". I got the idea while working on this fic, ditched it and went straight to writing the other one. So yeah. You should probably read that instead. :)**

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At the first few days Sam didn't notice anything different. Dean seemed a little cranky with no apparent reason but this really wasn't rare these days. But now Dean was practically yelling and threatening to kill him because he thought Sam did something to his cassette box.

"Dude, shut it. I didn't touch it, so lay off!"

Dean seemed only angrier and stared at his brother furiously. "I'm going to kill you for this Sammy. You know what? No, I won't. I'll tell Dad. Then we'll see how you like it."

Dad..? Their father was dead for months now and Dean was threatening Sam like a child and bringing Dad up.

"Cut it Dean. I don't know what game you're playing, but don't bring Dad into this."

The next day Dean seemed to have calmed down. He was eyeing the cashier at the Starbucks who couldn't possibly be at age of consent. Which was weird in many ways since it was both illegal and really not Dean's style to flirt with a teenager. Sam kicked Dean under the counter. "What the hell man? She's still in high school, what's gotten into you?" he said as soon as the cashier, now blushing, moved to take the next clients' order.

"Fuck off, Sam" came the answer and Dean didn't wait for his brother's response. He went to find a table while Sam was fetching their coffee. Sam thought that with Dean's behavior it would be best not to confront him in public, but they'll have a serious talk once they get back to the motel.

The drive back lasted only a couple minutes, and they both didn't say anything. By the time they got to their room Dean was still unusually quiet, but that wasn't going to stop Sam from letting him know he was being an ass. Dean was sitting on his bed, getting undressed. "What's gotten into you, Dean? You've been cranky all week but this is it. I'm not putting up with this shit anymore. Tell me what's going on."

"Nothing!"

"Bullshit."

"Nothing's wrong Sam. Just wait for Dad to come back and be quiet. "

"Dean, he's not coming back. I miss him too, I truly am, but he's dead and there's no coming back from that so just stop it, you're driving me crazy."

"I know Dad's dead.." Dean said, almost whispering. Then, with a broken voice, barely audible. "I'm sorry Sammy" He said, tears filling his eyes.

And that was it. Sam was willing to face anything, but not this. Because this was different. Dean wasn't hurt physically, he didn't need him to help him on his feet or stitch his wounds. Even when Dean was at his lowest he was still Dean, still his big brother. But this, this just wasn't. This broken man in front of him sounded so small and pathetic, so unlike Dean. Sam didn't know how to react. This was his brother, his 27 year old never-talk-about-your-feelings big brother with tears in his eyes talking about their father. His voice was still low, but it was barely recognizable in those last few sentences with a completely different speech pattern, much softer, much less confident. It sounded unnatural coming from the hunter's mouth. But Dean wasn't messing with him, he would never use Dad to do it. Which only left two options, Dean was either having a mental breakdown or this was some supernatural thing effecting his emotion. Either way, he needed to snap him out of it.

"Dean, Get a grip! I have enough to deal with without you having a complete meltdown." Sam just snapped. He didn't mean to sound so harsh but he was holding on for almost a week now and the words just came out. He regretted it the minute he said it.

Dean's already wet eyes were tearing. Oh, god. His brother was crying. No, he was whimpering, now with his back to Sam. Crap.

"Dean.. Dean I'm sorry, please look at me."

Dean didn't move a muscle.

"Dean I didn't mean it. I really didn't."

Nothing. Sam put his hand on his brother's shoulder and Dean flinched a little, but still refused to look at him. "L-leave me alone!" He cried, and normally Sam would respect his request. But it sounded so weak.

"Dean, Please. For me ."

That did the trick. This always worked when they were little, and most of the time when they grew up although Sam rarely did it. He hated himself a little for manipulating his brother at his current state, but he couldn't see any other options to calm him down.

"S-Sammy, I-i'm S-Sorr.. I'm So.." He whimpered.

"It's OK man. It's OK. I'm sorry I snapped, just calm down, Ok? "

"I'm y-your b-big brother, you don't need to take c-care of me".

Sam felt like his heart was going to break in pieces. Dean wasn't in control, and he just snapped at him when he was hurting and all Dean thought about was needing to take care of _Sam._ Damn it.

"It's OK Dean." He said again, because he couldn't think of anything else.

Sam held him awkwardly and pushed his brother to a hug. Dean was still sobbing and they both didn't say anything. There was nothing more be said, anyway. After ten minutes he felt Dean's sobs calming and his breaths getting deeper.

When he was sure Dean fell asleep he gently let go of him and laid his head on the pillow. He was hungry but when he reached the car keys he froze. Stupid thought. He can't leave the room, not with Dean like this. After eating some left overs he set by the table, opening his laptop. Just as the computer turned on, Dean's cell rang from his duffel and Sam hesitated for a moment before picking it up. Dean was in no shape to speak with anyone anyway, and if he was angry about him invading his privacy so be it. But when he looked at the screen and saw Bobby's name he relaxed.

"Dean?" came the gruff voice of Bobby Singer from the other side of the line.

"Hi Bobby," Sam answered.

"Sam? Where's your brother, what's wrong?" Bobby asked urgently.

"How do you.. Why do you assume there's something wrong?" Sam wasn't sure he was ready to tell Bobby about Dean's meltdown yet.

"Because you idjits never just call with no reason, and he called me earlier when I couldn't pick up and left a voice mail saying he needed my help. What did you boys got yourself into now?"

So Dean called Bobby? When was that? And why did he ask him for help?

"It's Dean Bobby, something happened to him. He's not hurt so don't worry, but he's in a pretty bad shape."

"What do you mean bad shape? I ain't got all day to listen to you yappin, get to the point. What happened?"

"He… I'm not sure Bobby. He's been acting strange all week, and he had a complete meltdown earlier. Talking about Dad and crying. "

"Was he drinking?" There was a hint of anger in his voice.

"No, I don't think so. I was with him all day." Sam responded. And then hesitantly he added, "Bobby, it's not like him. Even with Dad gone, it's not like him to fall apart like this. I think there's something Supernatural involved."

"I don't know Sam, he's been through hell and beyond and the idjit wouldn't talk to anyone. How soon can you get here?"

"Well, we were in the middle of a vamp hunt, but that's not going to happen. It's not too far, probably a 10 hour drive."

"See you tomorrow then. You come straight here, you listen? And call me if anything happens."

Sam tried to concentrate on his research after the call, going through their latest hunts and looking for something that can affect emotions. Half of him hoped he'll find something that will make sense, the other half felt like Bobby was right and Dean have been through too much and finally broke under the pressure. When he found himself reading the same sentence over and over again and not understanding a single word he gave up. This was useless. He was tired and emotionally drained and they had a long drive tomorrow and no way he's letting Dean drive like this. He needed to get some sleep.

When Sam closed his eyes all he could see in his mind was Dean's terrified face, crying uncontrollably. God, he wasn't built for this. Surely Bobby will find out what happened and solve it. He must.

Dean was still sleeping when Sam woke up the next morning. He decided to take a quick shower but didn't risk getting out for breakfast. As soon as Dean wakes up they'll get on the road and pick something on the way. When he got out of the shower, he saw Dean sitting on his bed, awake but still drowsy. "Morning, Dean" He said, forcing a smile on his lips. Maybe it was all behind them. Maybe Dean felt better after a good night sleep.

"Morning 'Sammy" Dean answered, returning the smile. Even those two little words were enough for Sam to know he didn't. He sounded so... not Dean.

"Sleep well?" He asked, picking his dirty clothes to the duffel. Dean didn't answer and Sam didn't push it. "Let's get ready, we're leaving soon."

"No breakfast?" Dean asked. "We'll pick something on the road. Hurry up, OK?"

It wasn't like Dean to follow Sam's plans, and he didn't even ask where they were going. He just nodded. Watching him as he went to the shower, he looked off. Dean usually walked with big, confident steps. Broad shoulders, head high. Dean wasn't a big guy - Not as big as Sam at least - but the way he held himself made him look much bigger. This morning, however, he walked differently. There was no physical change, yet he seemed smaller.

When fifteen minutes past and Dean still wasn't out of the shower Sam knocked on the door. "Dean, you OK in there?"

No answer. He tried to open the door but it was locked. "Dean?" Still quiet.

"Dean, answer me or I'm talking the door down."

Silent. But then, the lock turned. And there was Dean, light trails of blood all over his face. "Dean! What happened? Were you attacked?"

"It stings" came the answer, and Dean held his head down.

Sam came forward to take a closer look, then he saw the small cuts and the half shaven face. "Dean, did you cut yourself shaving?" Another nod.

Jesus. What the hell was going on? Was Dean in such bad state he wasn't even functioning, couldn't shave himself properly? Then he saw Dean's eyes filling with tears again, and decided to act before the tears came back.

"Hey, don't worry. It's nothing. I'll help you finish and then we can clean those cuts, OK?" He got another nod in response that freaked Sam out. Dean was way too quiet.

He took the razor from the sink and stand with his face to his brother. He was taller than Dean and bended just a little so he can get closer. Dean looked the same and completely different at the same time. His expression seemed more open, like he was trusting Sam not to hurt him while shaving him. It was just now that he appreciated how the stress have affected his brother, even the way he looked. His face bow lacked the tense, the always-prepared-for-a-fight quality, and Dean's green eyes gave his expression a whole different feeling, much more relaxed. When he finished shaving his brother Sam told him to wash his. Dean obeyed silently.

Dean was shaving since he was around 15, maybe 16, always with a razor, and he rarely cut himself, and never that badly. He's been doing it since he was a teenager, what could have cause him to be so shaken he couldn't even manage it? A teenager.. Shit. He didn't see it before, didn't even think. That's exactly how Dean acted since the beginning of the week. A cranky, annoying teenager. This must have been going on for days, and he didn't notice it. And now he wasn't just hurt. He was acting like a child. How could he have missed it? His face, his expression, the way he talked, the way he held himself. This wasn't depression or some mental breakdown. And this also meant it was progressing quickly, because just yesterday Dean was different. Not normal, but not like this. How old was Dean supposed to be? How long will it last? Too many questions, no answers. Better get to Bobby's first, but then there was this one question Dean might be able to answer.

"Hi, Dean" he said, eyeing his brother who was putting on a clean shirt now. "Yeah Sammy?"

"Did you notice something was going on in the last week? Before you... before?"

Dean stared at him quietly for a moment. "I.. Yeah, guess I did."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't want to make you worry Sammy." Was the simple, honest answer. No "drop it, Sam". No defenses. At this stage Dean didn't develop them yet. And what did trigger his brother's defense mechanisms and at what stage? Sam was too young to remember or even understand when he was a kid himself.

"So you know what's happening?"

"I'm not stupid!" Dean snapped. Sam struggled to keep a straight face at his brother's childish anger.

"No, I know you're not." He answered patiently.

"Yeah OK. I know I'm supposed to be bigger Sammy. I want to be. But it's like… It's just what I am now. You know?"

Sam didn't, but he nodded.

"How old are you, Dean?"

"Dude, 27" He answered quickly.

And Sam would have believed him, if it just didn't sound so wrong. "I know that. But, on the inside? Not just the way you look."

"I remember being at Fort Douglas, Dad left for a hunt and told me to take care of you. But I also remember we were hunting together, you and me."

Fort Douglas. The Shtriga. That was... Jeez, Sam could barely remember. He must have been around 6, at most. Which made Dean current mental state barley 10 years old.

"Yeah, I remember."

"When was that?"

"About 17 years ago."

Dean didn't answer.

"Tell you what, I talked to Bobby last night -"

"Uncle Bobby?!" Dean's face light up. Sam smiled at the mention of the nickname they haven't used for ages. "Yeah, Uncle Bobby. Did you call him yesterday?"

"Um.. Not sure Sammy. Yesterday was the day we were at Pastor Jim's?"

Sam face fell a little. It was worse enough Dean acting like a 10 year old, but he was also sure the events from their childhood just happened.

"Not exactly. Yesterday we were at the Starbucks and then we came to the motel, remember?" He said softly.

"Yeah.. Yeah, I called him when you were getting us coffee. He didn't answer."

"Why did you call him?"

"I wanted to ask for his help."

Damn. So Dean did knew before. Dean knew something was going on but he didn't tell him anything.

"Alright. Listen, why don't we get on the road? There's a diner near the exit, we'll grab something and go to Bobby's."

"Can I have pancakes?" Dean asked, with a hopeful look. Now really wasn't the time to say something to his brother about his unhealthy eating habits.

"Sure."

"Awesome!"

When they got out to the car Dean went straight to the driver's seat.

"Dean, what are you doing?"

"Huh?"

"You can't drive."

"Why the hell not?" Sam froze. The change was almost frightening. There it was. There _Dean _was. Low voice, head high, Dean.

"Dean?"

"What?!" Oh yes, no doubt now. His brother was pissed.

"Dean, man, what the hell was that!"

"What do you mean?"

"You! You were all…young. Really young. Dean, you thought you were 10 years old just a second ago. You just asked me if you can have pancakes."

Dean's face fell. "Son of a bitch."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Dean." He gave him his best cut-the-crap-i'm-not-letting-this-go face he could manage.

"It's been on and off again for the last week or so. I thought I had it under control, but I always remembered. And it never went so far back."

Sam was so relived to speak to his brother again he barley paid attention to what he was saying. Sure, Dean was there the whole time, but the person he was speaking to just a few minutes ago didn't feel like Dean. He forced himself to focus.

"What do you mean so far back? What do you remember?"

"It's a little fuzzy. Memories from when I was 16 were as clear as yesterday and I just felt like the world was a huge pile of crap and it was all aimed against me".

"You thought you were 16?"

"Something like that. I tried to call Bobby and ask him to do some research but he didn't answer. It's all fuzzy from that point on."

"Shit Dean. Why didn't you say something? We need to get you to Bobby's."

"Hell no! We're going to finish off that Vamp nest."

"Dean, it can happen again. What am I supposed to do with a 10 year old facing a Vampire?"

"My body's the same. And it won't happen again, I'm fine. "

"You cut yourself shaving, Dean. I'm not letting you get your hands on a weapon the way you were. You really scared me."

Dean touched his cheek slightly, like he didn't believe it and needed proof.

"Fine."

He went to get into the driver's seat again and Sam stopped him.

"You're not driving, Dean!"

"Why not?!"

"Because you can't!"

"Why?"

"Because you can't, Dean!"

"Why?"

"Because I said so!"

"But.."

"Cut it Dean!"

"You said I'm ten and Dad let me drive when I was ten!" He said, and he suddenly rolled his eyes, falling to the floor. Sam caught him at the last minute, panting.

"That's why." He mumbled. "Dean? Dean you with me? What's wrong?"

"Fine. Get your hands off me" came the reply. But when Sam led him around the car supporting his weight he didn't resist.

Dean entered the car. His head was spinning, and the memories in his head became all wrong again. Things that happened yesterday, stuff that happened just now and memories from his childhood seemed just as clear. Sam eyed him wordily but Dean did his best to ignore it. He really didn't feel like talking about what was happening to him. "You OK man?" "'m fine. Just Drive."

They drove quietly to the exit where the diner was without saying a word. When they finally got there, Dean struggled with his seatbelt for a moment before getting out of the Impala. Sam didn't even need to speak to him to know that he wasn't himself with the way he held himself.

"Come on Dean, let's eat something and hit the road" he said, pushing his brother slightly towards the diner. They sat at a corner booth, Dean ordered pancakes, Sam had egg and bacons with coffee.

"Sammy", Dean broke the silence said with mouth half full. "You think Uncle Bobby can fix me?"

"Yeah Dean. I'm sure."

And he really wasn't.

The rest of the drive went as you'd expect a 10 hour drive with a 27-that-thinks-he's-10 in the car. After scanning his cassette collection for a while and switching them every couple of minutes much to Sam's annoyance, although he didn't dare to say anything to upset Dean, Dean decided he was bored. He whined about it untill Sam promised him he'll get him a new Zeppelin CD once they get to Bobby's if he'll be quiet. Dean agreed and turned the volume up, but didn't say a word.

When Dean finally fell asleep Sam was relived. He didn't came back to himself since they left the motel, and Sam missed him although he sat just by his side. This was just so, so wrong.

When Sam parked at the rest stop it was already getting dark, but he really needed a break to get some coffee and stretch his legs. He felt bad on waking Dean up but he wasn't going to leave him in the car. "Dean, wake up."

Dean turned his head to the other side and tried to ignore him. "Dean, wake up, come on. Let's get you some dinner, we'll be at Bobby's soon."

Dean opened his eyes softly, blinking at Sam and then grinned. "Sammy!" he called, spreading his arms towards him to a hug. What the..?

Sam was too shocked to react. Dean let him hug him last night when he was crying, but it was nothing like this. "Dean..?"

"'Sammy i'm 'ungry."

Shit. shit. shit. shit. Dean sounded just so wrong.

"We'll get you something in a moment. Hey, before we go think can you tell me how old are you?" he said softly.

"I'm 27 silly", Dean said and giggled. He actually _giggled._

"Yeah buddy I know. But, you know, inside?" Dean thought about is, his brows furrowed with consternation. If it wasn't so tragic it could've been funny.

"It was your birthday last week!" He finally said. "Daddy didn't bring cake but I 'ang you 'appy Bir'hday. So I'm -" He paused for a moment, thinking. "You are one, and Daddy 'ays I'm 'he big bro'her and I take care of you 'cause I'm four years older 'hen you. "

Holly. Shit. "That's great Dean, this is really helpful. So you're five." He tried to force a smile but as the last words came out he just couldn't.

Dean looked at him curiously, and Sam decided to change the subject.

"Ok Dean, Ok. No problem. You said you were hungry right?"

"Yeah"

"Ok. Let's get you something to eat, Ok?"

"Yeah!" Dean grinned.

Sam got out of the car, but Dean didn't follow. He looked at him through the windshield, waiting. Of course. He went to the passenger side, opened the door and it took him another moment to figure why Dean still didn't come out, until he helped him unbuckle the seat belt. When Dean finally came out he stared at Sam curiously. "Wow 'ammy you bigger 'han me!" He stated. And although Sam knew Dean was probably referring to his height, it didn't change the lump he felt in his throat

"Yes, I am. Let's get you something to eat, Ok?" Dean nodded and reached for Sam's hand and put his inside it. They were walking hand in hand to the diner, and Sam was too distracted to care about the looks that this earned them.

Once they entered the diner Dean tightened his grip on Sam's hand a little, which got him Sam's attention. "Sammy I need to go." He said.

"Go?" He asked stupidly. Oh. Oh. "Sure, let's go to the bathroom" and he led him to the men's room. Luckily, Dean was still mentally old enough to handle this on his own. Thank God for small miracles.

Once they set in the booth the waitress came quickly handing them the menus. She was eyeing Dean a little. Perfect. Dean still looked like himself – at least to those he didn't know him – and he was still getting attention. "What can I get you sugar?" she asked Dean, a little too friendly before Sam could stop her.

"Pancake'!" Dean answered enthusiastically. "'nd hot Coco plea'e ". The waitress seemed shocked for a moment but did her best to hide it. "Sure thing honey. Want me to put some marshmallow in it?" "Yes plea'e!" he smiled at her shyly. She returned a smile and turned to Sam. "It's really hard taking care of them, I adore your strength. I have a special needs cousin, around the same age as your.." "Brother." Sam answered quickly, fighting to force a small smile but not even a little interested in continuing the conversation. "I'll just have coffee, thanks."

When their waitress she came back with the drinks she also brought crayons and some paper. "Thought he'd like it" she said to Sam, looking for his approval. "I'm not sure t-" Sam started, but Dean interrupted. "Thank you!" Dean smiled and reached for the crayons immediately. One thing he had to give him, Dean at five was much more polite then Dean at 27. Sam decided to let him be, remembering Dean getting bored in the car when Dean was ten and not willing to get a repeat with Dean at five. When the waitress left again he watched Dean drawing, and tears started filling his eyes. His bad-ass Hunter big brother was coloring, didn't know how much four plus one was, and was completely helpless.

Sam had to clean Dean up after he was finished eating. Still with no physical change his hands should have been perfectly capable holding a knife and a fork, but Dean held them weird, like a child would, and he had trouble coordinating them and getting the food into his mouth without making a mess. The waitress gave him another small smile when she came with the bill and handed him some wipes.

The rest of the drive to Sioux Falls went smoothly. Dean was awake but he was busying himself with the crayons, getting a little paint on the Impala. He'd kill Sam that he let him do it if he's back to himself. _When._ _When_ his back to himself.

When the Impala finally drove into Singer Salvage Yard Bobby was just getting out of the house, probably hearing the car getting close. Oh crap. Bobby. Sam didn't call him again, he didn't warn him. He wanted to catch a word with Bobby alone, but Dean was getting restless. "We're here! Le'mme out 'ammy!" he said, and Sam, wanting to avoid a scene, got out of the car and unbuckled Dean. Bobby was just stepping down the steps when Dean noticed him and launched himself into his arms. "'ncle Bobby!"

Bobby almost fell on his feet – Dean might have thought he was little but he was still taller than him – and Bobby steadied himself with a complete look of shock. "'ncle Bobby we 'ad pancakes!" He said happily.

"Hey Dean, why don't you get inside and I'll get you something to drink in a moment?" Said Sam, seeing Bobby's complete look of shock, mouth opened slightly. "'K Sammy" Dean answered and got into the house.

"I'm sorry Bobby, with everything going on I forgot to warn you" Sam apologized, and the older hunter's mouth finally closed. "What did you idjits do? What's wrong with him?" He asked. "I don't know Bobby, but it's getting worse. He was ten when we left and now he's five." "Ten?" "Yeah, five now. The meltdown I told you about – It took me a while to figure it out but I did and Dean confirmed it. He was acting like a child, and he thought he was ten. Then he came back in the car, but then he fell…"

"Slow down boy. Get inside and tell me everything, from the beginning. – Slowly!" He cut Sam before he could say anything. "Besides, if your idjit brother thinks he's five I don't want him alone in the house." Right. Right! They were at Bobby's. If there was an opposite to the term "child proof", it would probably be "Bobby's".

Sam ran inside, his heart racing, to find Dean waiting for him by the table at the kitchen. Thanks god. He poured him some juice and then escorted him upstairs to the guest bedroom where he instructed him to change his clothes and go to bed. "I'm not sleepy!" Dean protested and Sam just couldn't get used to that childish expression, especially when Dean's eyes were practically shutting as he spoke. "It's bed time, Dean. Get some sleep" He said softly and escorted him to bed. Dean protested some more, but got in bed. Sam set on the opposite bed, and after a couple minutes he was ready to leave the room, sure his brother was asleep. "'ammy", Dean suddenly said softly with eyes closed. "When is Daddy coming back?"

"Soon Dean. Get some sleep." There it was again, the lump in his throat. It was after midnight and he felt whole the tension from the day not that Dean was asleep, and he wished he could crawl in bed as well. But he still owed Bobby some explanation before he'll get some rest. A few moment later he made sure Dean was asleep, closed the door and went downstairs to the kitchen.

When Sam finished telling Bobby about the last 24 hours it was half past two, and he was having his third cup of coffee. Bobby didn't have a clue what could have caused this, but he was optimistic. "Whatever it is we'll find it, Sam. We'll bring your brother back and you can laugh at him about this for eternity." He told the younger man. Sam looked at him tiredly and nodded. "I hope so. This is such a mess, I don't even know where to begin."

"No use to staring now boy. You drove here all day, get some sleep. We'll start research in the morning."

"Thanks Bobby" Sam answered, sincerely. "Thank me when your brother is back to normal." Bobby said and left to his bedroom. Sam followed, entering the guest bedroom. Dean was still asleep and he carefully changed his clothes and got into bed. Tomorrow. Tomorrow they'll fix this, and everything would go back to normal.

On the third day at Bobby's Sam was getting frustrated. It seemed like they've been doing research forever but nothing seemed to click. They didn't hunt any witches lately, that was the first thing they ruled out. They faced the ghost of Melanie Merchant, but she was salted and burned. The, there was the vamp nest but they were all dead. Then came hell-bitch Meg. Then, The Yellow-Eyed Demon. And the accident… and Dad dying. And he didn't even want to think about the Rakshasas.

Nothing they faced could have explained what was happening, and Sam was starting to lose hope. Dean on the other hand seemed perfectly happy staying at Bobby's. Bobby went out to get them some supplies the morning after they came there. His fridge contained a surprising collection of beers, but no milk for cereals for Dean. And Dean was passing the time watching cartoons, drawing and playing with their old toy train Bobby found at the attic. Today when he woke up though he seemed worried. "'ammy when's Daddy coming back?" He asked as soon as he entered the kitchen. Sam ignored the question and got Dean a bowl of cereals. "Eat your breakfast Dean."

"No!" he said angrily. "I wanna talk to Daddy!"

"Your Daddy's busy boy. He'll be back soon, now eat your cereal before it gets mushy" Came Bobby's answer, surprising Sam. He was avoiding questions about John ever since the whole thing started, but Bobby's answer seemed almost natural. Of course, this wasn't the first time Bobby Singer was dealing with a young Dean Winchester while their Dad was god knows where, although he wasn't sure he knew then when Dean was that young. For him, Bobby was forever there ever since he could remember. "Thanks" He muttered quietly to Bobby, loud enough for Bobby to hear but not Dean.

"Dean, where did you get this?" Bobby suddenly said, gripping Dean's arm. Sam looked at the same direction, not getting it. "Dunno, 'ncle Bobby. Why?"

"Can I have a look?" Bobby asked, and now Sam could see it. Dean was wearing a ring. Not the one he usually had on his right hand, this one was on his left one. Dean shifted a little, but stretched his fingers so Bobby can look. "Bobby?" Sam asked, but Bobby ignored him, taking the ring off Dean's ring finger.

Dean let out a small moan and jerked. Sam hurried by his side but he was too late and Dean was already on the floor, squirming. "Dean? Dean!"

It felt like it was going on for ages, although it probably lasted less than a minute. Bobby held Dean's legs so he won't hurt himself and Sam had his hands. When Dean finally lay still and opened his eyes, Sam was still holding him tight.

"Dean, are you OK? Are you hurt?" He asked worriedly.

"Get your hands off me Sammy, you're crushing me."

Sam let go of him, surprised, and looked at examined Dean. Just like when they left the motel, the change was immediate. His expression was hard, voice normal although a little shaken, not a trace of the child-like speech he heard in the last four days. Sam started laughing, and soon enough Bobby joined him. "What the hell are you two laughing about? What am I doing on the floor anyway?"

It took Sam and Bobby a moment to relax as Sam helped Dean back on his feet.

"You idjit! You found a ring and you just put it on? Haven't you learned anything?" Bobby asked, but he couldn't master sounding angry. He was just as relived as Sam was.

"What are you on about?" Dean asked, looking confused. Confused, but so very Dean.

"He's talking about the cursed object that Benjamin Buttoned you." Said Sam, now wiping his eyes from tears of laughter.

"You're not making any sense, the two of you. And my head is killing me."

"It will wear off. Sit down, I'll get you some coffee." Bobby instructed and Dean set as Sam set opposite him.

"You really don't remember what happened?" Sam asked, now sounding serious again. "Sam, I swear to God if you don't start giving me some answers I'm going to kill you." Came Dean's annoyed response, and Sam never thought he would enjoy his brother being a jerk so much. He couldn't hide his smile that seemed to just piss Dean off even more. He and Dean needed to talk. About their Dad, about Dean not dealing, not letting himself let go. He wasn't going to let him off the hook this time. But it can wait a little longer until Dean gets all the details of the past week or so and feels better.

"Cursed object, big bro. Made you regress mentally to the most annoying teenager the world have ever seen, then a ten year old and five as far as I could tell just before we got to Bobby's. You were actually quite adorable" Sam replied, still smiling.

"Forget the coffee, Bobby. Make it something stronger" Dean asked.

Yes. Everything was back to normal.


End file.
